The Dragonslayer's Journey
by MattheJ1
Summary: How did Ornstein end up in the Cathedral of Blue? You're about to find out.
1. Chapter 1: End of an era

Dragonslayer's Journey

**Chapter one**

**End of an era**

Gwynevere's caravan was ready.

Ornstein took one last walk through the halls of Anor Londo, gazing at the vaulted ceilings and beautiful decorations he would never see again.

The setting sun cast the entire city into a beautiful twilight. Orange light shot through the windows, and the castle was all the more beautiful for it. He almost hated to leave.

But his duty was to protect Gwynevere, and as the first flame faded, she would now set sail for greener pastures. Across the sea, where the curse could not reach them. She and her husband, Flan, would live the rest of their days far from Lordran, far from Anor Londo.

As he entered the central room, Smough joined him. The armor concealed his emotions, but Ornstein could tell how he felt. For years, the man had lusted for his power, his mastery of lightning. Now he would be going, and Smough would lose his chance, for his duties chained him to Anor Londo, to protect the last remaining heir of Gwyn. He was crushed.

The two rode their elevators up, and Ornstein reflected on his strange partner. He was a monster, yes, but Ornstein had always held some respect for his giant friend. Anyone as savage on the battlefield as Smough had been was worth some grudging respect, even if that man was just as savage in all other aspects of his life.

Finally at the end of his last walk in Lordran, Ornstein slowly pushed open the doors to the princess' chamber. She had already vacated this place, of course, but it still held strong memories for him.

He opened the door, and stared. Gwynevere was still there, reclining on her bed as always! Smough looked just as surprised.

He stammered. "Princess, I…I did not know you were still-"

_"__Do not be fooled, Dragonslayer."_

Gwyndolin's voice echoed through the chamber. It still unnerved him to no end, as did everything about Gwyn's mysterious son.

_"__The woman you see before you is merely an illusion."_

Ornstein couldn't believe it. She looked so real!

_"__The people of Lordran are not to know that their princess has abandoned them. This illusion shall guide them even as Gwynevere cannot. The sun shall never set on Anor Londo."_

It made perfect sense. The people would still be protected, even as the true princess left them.

_"__And you, too, shall live on here, in more than memory."_

A flash of light made the two guardians flinch. When they looked back, a man was standing there.

It was Ornstein himself.

The illusion bowed. "I will serve just as you have, Dragonslayer. Anor Londo shall not fall as long as I stand."

Ornstein stared, mouth agape. Not only did this illusion look like him, he sounded like him, too. It was uncanny. Unnerving.

Smough was amazed, but he knew it was for a different reason.

_"__This illusion has all of your skills and powers, and he shall never age. A fitting guardian for an ageless daughter of the sun."_

Ornstein circled around the false version of him, looking him up and down. No difference, as far as he could see.

Smough was happy, they all could see. He had thought his chance gone, but this new Ornstein, if he had the same power…

Gwyndolin, apparently seeing his motives, snapped at him.

_"__Executioner Smough, this man is to serve just as Ornstein has. While he lives, no harm shall come to him by you!"_

Smough nodded in agreement, but saw opportunity in the phrasing Gwyndolin had used. Ornstein had a feeling this new illusion would not receive a proper burial.

He looked around at the false princess, false himself, and his sociopathic friend. Suddenly, he did not feel comfortable here.

"I beg your leave, Gwyndolin. Your sister shall be departing soon."

To his discomfort, it was the illusion of Gwynevere who responded to him.

"Farewell, Ornstein. Serve my sister as you did my father."

Smough turned to him.

"Goodbye, Dragonslayer," he said in a booming voice. "Live well, and may you find what you desire." He looked at the illusion of Ornstein once again. "I know I have."

And so Ornstein departed the Princess' chamber. The doors thudded shut behind him, and he began his slow walk back, where the princess would depart at any moment.

He thought about Smough's parting words.

_Find what you desire. But what do I desire?_

He wanted to protect the princess, of course. Friendly, almost childishly so, the girl was like a sister of his. He would give his life for her, no question. But that was not his desire.

His deepest desire was to make a name for himself once again.

In the old days, while the First Flame still blazed bright, he and the other three knights of Gwyn were the most fearsome things in the world. Everyone loved or feared them, and both had good reason. But after the war was won, he had moved down a peg, to the level of royal bodyguards.

But now, he'd be in a new land to make a new name for himself. Everyone would know the name Ornstein!

_Yes, I suppose that is what I desire. Fame, infamy, recognition – to make everyone in the world know who I am._

_Well, no time like the present._


	2. Chapter 2: Forever Seethe

**Chapter two**

**Forever seethe**

The caravan left that night. Two massive carriages containing Gwynevere and Flan, and a dozen or so other carriages with their guards. Ornstein rode on a black horse in the front, peering through the gloom for any threats the night may pose.

They rode out the back of the city, heading towards the coast where a ship would be ready to take them far across the sea. Then their new life would begin, no longer rulers, but still gods in their own right, in a land where the curse and darkness could not reach them.

Ornstein wasn't sure that was possible. From what he had seen, the curse was all-reaching. Many other kingdoms had fallen, from Catarina to Vinheim, and if this land they were heading to was curse-free now, it probably wouldn't stay that way for long.

But he couldn't bring himself to tell Gwynevere this. He loved the woman like she was his own daughter, and would go to any lengths to make her happy.

Flan, he had less love for. He called himself the god of flame, yet had no real claim to such a title. His marriage to Gwynevere was suspect, too. With rumors that Gwyn's time was coming, it seemed he wished to cement his godhood by any means necessary. He did not trust the man.

But Gwynevere did, and she seemed happy to be with Flan. Ornstein would not begrudge her that, and he could set aside his personal prejudices for her.

A rustling alerted him. Ornstein did not look up – in the gloom, he would not be able to see anything anyway – but he began listening intently.

Something was making its way through the night towards them. Something big.

Staying calm, Ornstein slowed his horse until he was level with the four riders that made up the front guard.

"There is a creature keeping pace with us, just ahead," he muttered, keeping the appearance of one just making idle chat. "Continue riding as if nothing is wrong, but be prepared for an attack."

One of the men gasped, but they all followed his orders. If their stalker knew they were aware of him, he would strike. They would have to keep an air of calmness about them.

Lagging farther, he came to the main caravan. "Something is about to strike us," he muttered, speaking to a small group of half-asleep knights over the creak of the carriage wheels. "When it does, immediately assume a defensive formation around Gwynevere's carriage."

"What about Flan?" one of them asked.

"Flan can defend himself," Ornstein hissed. "Your orders are to guard the princess, and that is precisely what you shall do."

The men ran off, noticeably trembling. Ornstein moved around the rest of the group, some visibly shaken by the news, and organized them. While appearing to continue moving undaunted, they now clustered closer together, and each man had a position to assume when the time came.

Everyone was a bundle of nerves, doing their best to act natural while aware that at any moment, gods know what might come out of the forest. Maybe a demon from Izalith. Or a dragon – did they really think they had been driven to extinction?

Ornstein almost hoped this thing would attack soon, just to get it over with. But no, the rustling continued, sounding just like someone who wanted to be stealthy, yet was not very good at it. And slowly, the guard moved into a more tactical formation.

Finally, as the caravan moved into a clearing, Ornstein decided to end it. Back at the front, he made an overdramatic gesture signaling them to stop, then shouted, "Who's there? Show yourself!" as if he had just now noticed they were being tracked.

And then he deliberately said the worst possible thing to say in this scenario, a phrase guaranteed to provoke an attack, whether you mean it or not.

"We're not going to hurt you," he said, bracing.

Instantly, a creature leapt out at Ornstein. He raised his spear, ready to impale the beast on its own momentum, but a giant pincer batted it aside, and they collided.

The other guards sprang to action, forming up ranks around the largest carriage. Several lit torches, others fired flaming arrows, and the light allowed Ornstein to see what it was that had assaulted him.

From the waist up it was a man, but below was a massive scorpion's carapace. It wore an iron helm, as if to hide more deformities.

"It's one of Seath's monsters!" a knight yelled.

At the sound of the name, the manscorpion jerked its head toward the knight, who whimpered. This gave Ornstein the opportunity to shove it off of him. He heaved on one side of the body, causing it to topple over. It righted itself as he rolled away, turning to face him. Ornstein leapt to his feet, spear at the ready.

Suddenly, a strange noise filled the air, and a blue glow emerged from the forest. Ornstein leapt back just as a massive soul spear pierced the air in front of him. He jerked his head to the right, just seeing another hulking figure emerge from the woods before the manscorpion charged into him.

This new one was half woman, half scorpion, with two massive tails and a staff, and she now began throwing soul arrows at the carriages.

A happy couple on honeymoon. How romantic.

The soldiers, already spooked, were now frightened beyond belief. A row of pikes stood between the scorpions and carriages, but some of those pikes were quivering back and forth, and some were pointed in useless directions. Some of the men looked ready to run.

Some royal guard they were.

The manscorpion lunged a pincer at him. Ornstein swept it aside with a horizontal sweep, then jabbed forward to catch the other pincer. He shoved upward, and the manscorpion's front legs lifted off the ground, exposing its softer underbelly. As quick as a flash, he whirled his spear around and sank it into the beast's flesh.

The creature screamed, jerking backwards. Ornstein took this opportunity to yank his spear free, twisting it as he did so to maximize its impact.

The manscorpion, now in great pain, decided to take his chances with the other knights, and he scuttled towards them, leaving Ornstein to fight the more dangerous scorpioness. She turned to him, charging up a spell, only for him to launch a bolt of lightning straight into her lovely chest. She scuttled forwards, lunging out with her spear, and he caught it with his, forcing the two into a power struggle. She broke said struggle by jabbing her tails forward, forcing Ornstein to disengage, while, in the same motion, whirling around and slicing into both tails with a circular sweep.

Aside from the concern for his lady, Ornstein was almost having fun with these two.

Suddenly, the whole group was shrouded in light, and Flan's carriage burst into flames.

Everyone turned and stared as, one by one, fireballs started flying out of the burning carriage, flying at the scorpions. They both recoiled, drawing back towards the woods.

It seems being the god of flame has its advantages.

The scorpioness, not ready to give up yet, burrowed underground. The knights, now useless, watched the signs of the creature's burrowing, heading straight towards the flaming carriage.

Ornstein, however, had another idea. Running at breakneck speed, he leapt into the air, plunging down directly on top of the moving pile of dirt and jabbing down with his spear. As soon as his spear had been buried as far as he could push it, he fired a bolt of lightning from it.

There was a muffled scream. Ornstein quickly dove out of the way, leaving his spear behind, and not a moment too soon, for the monster burst from the ground a split second later, looking distressed beyond belief. The fiery carriage picked up the offensive immediately, throwing even more flames at it.

At last, the two creatures seemed to have had enough, and they scuttled back into the woods. A few made a move to give chase, but Ornstein stopped them. "They won't bother us again," he said confidently, picking up his spear. "Not unless they have a death wish."

"Seath should keep those things on a leash!" one of the older knights exclaimed.

Ornstein said nothing. He was one of the privileged few to know that Seath was no longer willing to obey their or anyone's orders.

Flan's carriage snuffed itself out, suddenly returning the caravan to darkness. After a few minutes of consultation with their passengers, they began to move again.

The rest of their ride through the forest was uneventful. If there was anything else here that bore them ill will, it was smart enough not to show it.

Just as dawn broke, they arrived at the port. The group was exhausted and welcomed a chance to ease their weary feet. Ornstein did not begrudge them this, but he kept a wary eye on the sailors, in case one intended to pickpocket some drowsy soldier.

Their ship was a massive war vessel, repurposed for divine transportation. Huge decks that could hold a thousand soldiers would now be host to two gods fleeing Lordran. The sailors had wished to call it _The Celestial Flame_ in their honor, but after urging them about the importance of secrecy, they had instead settled for _The Golden Lion_, after Ornstein himself.

Conversation was kept to a minimum, and Ornstein quickly handed the required gold to the captain, who ushered them onboard. Then came the moment Ornstein was the most nervous about, but he knew it could not be helped. You can't just drive a carriage onto the deck of a ship, especially one so large.

Gwynevere emerged from her carriage, her massive figure towering over everyone. Drawing herself up to full height, she stood taller than some of the masts. Flan emerged, too, but everyone's eyes were fixed on Gwynevere, her radiant beauty even outshining the rising sun. She gazed back down at them, beaming.

Sailors stopped in their tracks. Some fainted. A few of the knights reacted similarly, as before today, some of the lower ranking men had not been permitted to view her. Yet here she stood, for all to see, smiling at her followers even as she prepared to leave them forever.

The galleon descended slightly as the gods stepped onboard. They made their way below deck, wobbling slightly with the rocking of the ship. It was quite a sight to see, the daughter of the lord of flame getting used to her sea legs. Every sailor on deck had been heavily paid off, and even if they hadn't been, who would believe them, especially while an identical princess still reigned in Lordran?

As per their instructions, the large carriages were destroyed, and a return journey was planned for half the knights that had escorted them, all sworn to secrecy. They had simply been on a mission when they were assaulted, incurring many casualties. A few still had wounds from the scorpions, which would only lend them more credibility. Nobody was to mention the princess, or even Ornstein, who still faithfully guarded the cathedral in Anor Londo.

And minutes later, _The Golden Lion_ and its divine cargo set sail for a distant land, never to return.


	3. Chapter 3: What is best in life

**Chapter three**

**What is best in life**

For days, the boat sailed over a vast expanse of blue seas. No land in sight, no other ships, just the sea on all sides. Ornstein found it rather dull, but to the gods, it was quite exciting.

The details of their transportation had been worked out long before today, for it had been clear that, eventually, the First Flame would fade. Even so, the actual logistics of moving beings so much larger than humans were rather awkward at best. The bottom deck was wider than they were tall, so for most of the trip they would simply lie below deck, listening to the waves crashing against the ship.

Once they were sure neither land nor other ships were near, the gods were permitted to come above deck, but only one at a time, so as not to throw off the balance of the ship. Gwynevere elected to use this most of the time, so if a seagull were to fly by, it would have seen her, at times striding around, but mostly leaning against the mast, simply taking in the view.

More than once, the captain had forced her to return to her quarters, simply because she was distracting the other sailors. Ornstein found it funny to watch her try to strike up idle banter with men she towered over. Some of the men were torn between averting their eyes in respect and staring at her majestic form, this dilemma reducing them to a stammering mess. Most sailors, Ornstein reminded himself, would not see women for months at a time, sometimes never, yet here was the most gorgeous woman in all of Lordran, in any kingdom. Not a single one had even whispered about how it was bad luck to have a woman on deck, for each one felt blessed beyond their wildest dreams.

They did, indeed, seem to be particularly lucky on this voyage. All day every day, the sun shone bright, yet a cool breeze pushed them exactly where they wished to go. Ornstein had heard of the dreaded squalls, yet not a single drop of rain landed on deck. Once, they had spotted a storm, but no sooner had they seen it than it disappeared on the horizon, never to be seen again. He wondered how much of this was pure luck and how much was divine intervention. Then again, wouldn't any journey feel perfect when you travelled with gods?

Often, Ornstein would talk with the captain. They lengthily discussed kingdoms, seas, ships, and gods – anything to pass the time. On one such occasion, the sun was just beginning to move lower in the sky when Ornstein approached the captain, named Bligh.

"She's enjoying herself," said Bligh, not bothering to look back. Ornstein wondered if there were some creaking floorboards that gave him away.

"Yes," he agreed. He glanced back at Gwynevere, who was once again standing by the mast, chatting with the lookout in the crow's nest. Once they had gotten out to sea, she had wanted to go for a swim, but it quickly became clear that it would not be possible. The consequences of her stepping off of and onto the boat while it was at sea could be disastrous; besides, it would not do for the sailors to watch a goddess bathe.

"Her husband seems to prefer staying below."

"He says it's a smoother ride," he explained. "You wouldn't want a god getting seasick on your ship, would you?"

"That would tarnish the image somewhat," Bligh admitted.

Ornstein chuckled.

Bligh looked at his instruments. "We should see it soon," he said. "At this speed, we'll hit land before nightfall."

"Good," Ornstein responded. He was eager to begin his new adventure.

"So I suppose your friends will settle down, find some new followers, and watch over them for the rest of their life?"

He shrugged. "That is every god's dream."

Bligh turned back to him. "And what about you? What do dragonslayers dream of?"

He laughed again. "Well, I suppose I could cut a path across the land, slaying a thousand enemies and becoming revered as a merciless blood seeker."

"Well, I can think of worse fates for warriors such as yourself. There's these pirates, from Varange in the north, who say you only go to heaven if you die in battle."

Ornstein snorted. "So what do they do in times of peace?"

"Not sure. They don't seem to have a lot of experience with the concept."

"And now that they've based their religion on war, it's too late, right?"

"Exactly." Bligh adjusted the wheel slightly. "Well, if battle isn't your thing, how about power? A mysterious warrior from across the sea, maybe you could insert yourself into some king's court as an advisor. Rise through the ranks, and eventually claim the throne for yourself."

Ornstein laughed. "Maybe I could. Say, it's your plan, why don't you try it?"

"They'd never buy me. I'm a terrible liar."

"Well, I've considered going for power in the past. Fact is, though, I'm not cut out for that sort of thing. Power over people is like power over sand. If you have enough, you can do a lot with it, but the more you have, the harder it is to control. Wait for a strong enough wind, and they'll all blow away."

"Some people would die for it."

"I try to avoid dying for anything."

"I suppose that is fair." Bligh adjusted the course slightly again to counter a light wind that was picking up. "So, what is it that you do want? What are you looking for in this land?"

Ornstein leaned in. "A legacy."

Bligh raised an eyebrow.

"Infamy gained from slaughtering all that you see disappears as soon as you stop slaughtering. Power over people is temperamental, and always ends in revolt or anarchy. But do some heroic deeds, win a few battles for the right side, and suddenly you're a legend. Legends last as long as there are people to tell them. That, my friend, is the closest anyone could get to immortality."

"I see," Bligh said. "But what happens when everyone that knows your legend is dead? When all the civilizations that ever told of your greatness crumble and die?"

Ornstein sighed. "Why do you think I'm on this boat?"

Suddenly, Gwynevere pointed ahead. "I see land!"

The lookout, who had been distracted but wasn't about to show it, shouted, "Land Ho!"

A few moments later, Ornstein and Bligh saw it too. "We should be able to make it before nightfall."

Gwynevere bent over. "Should I go below deck?"

"No, miss," Bligh responded. "In fact, you might want to call your husband up, too. They're expecting you."

Gwynevere hurried to do just that. Bligh smiled.

"Dragonslayer, welcome to Heide."


End file.
